One At A Time (I)

The answer Cyril had given was apparently sufficient, but before Angelica could get another word in, Cyril slowly raised a finger in deliberation. "By the way Angelica, are you done eating?"

Her eyes wondered down to the largely uneaten meal, still held tightly within her wholly unfamiliar grip. "Yes, I think this is it for me. Unfortunately, it doesn't look like I'll be able to finish this in one go, although I must say, it really made for quite the treat." she said, affably patting her stomach in delight.

"Good, because I have to leave now."

"Leave already?" She turned away to look at the bold numerals being displayed on a nearby billboard. The colon separating them remained static, but as if responding to her focus, the numbers underwent a sudden shift, and the time changed again.

5:47p.m.

It wasn't particularly late, but it couldn't be called early either. Babylon, being a state within Britain, was no exception to the Atlantic weather patterns or the region's diurnal cycle, which was currently teetering on the edge of twilight. However, as deduced by Angelica based off the young man's tone of voice, the reasoning behind his bold claim had nothing to do with the time of day.

She turned around again to put Cyril into focus, then narrowed her eyes sharply as she worded her next question, "Cyril...is something wrong?"

"Mhm. Well, I kind of have a problem." He said, looking to the side with only his eyes.

The girl's eagerness erupted, and in line with her nature she leaned forward, almost tipping over their shared bench as she probed him for answers. "Then you should let me help you. After all you've done for me today, I couldn't very well leave you to deal with something so sudden all on your own. Even if this does end up causing us to run late, I'm sure Yelena will understand."

He'd fully been expecting that kind of earnestness, and yet it still left him at a loss for words. Truthfully, he wanted nothing more than to not get her involved, but the unyielding determination brimming through her stare was a clear indication that she wouldn't be taking no for an answer.

Cyril raised a brow, crossing his arms in thought as he leaned back to mull over his options—which weren't many to begin with.

"Mmgghhh....No can do. This is something I have to deal with, it wouldn't be right for me to—"

THUD

The table shook from a dull impact.

Cyril was unfazed for the most part, but the subtle twitch in his brows indicated some amount of amazement at what Angelica had just done. Still holding firm after slamming her hands onto their dining bench, Angelica's glare sharpened inordinately, as if the girl's earnest nature would consume him if he didn't comply.

"Angelica?"

Pursing her lips, Angelica unleashed a stream of words that seemed to compel him rather than convince. "Stop stalling and Tell. Me. What's. Going. On."

The passionate gleam in her cerulean eyes burned brighter.

Ah...she's upset. Cyril thought to himself as he heaved a sigh of acquiescence. His shoulders loosened, and although the motion was still somewhat reluctant, he unfurled both arms and started giggling to himself.

"Alright fine, you win young miss. I give up." he admitted with a chuckle, throwing his hands into the air in a gesture of mock submission.

"Yes, Yes." Angelica snickered pompously and rested a hand on her chest. " I'm very persuasive, I know. So, what kind of trouble are you in?"

"To sum it up, we're being followed."

"...Followed?" Angelica's face slowly settled into a stifling glare; it was as if all the optimism in her expression was suddenly trounced by an unexpected wave of caution—which, as far as Cyril knew, was rather uncharacteristic of her.

She must not have been expecting such a dreadful answer.

"Angelica, look behind me, toward three o'clock. There are about six guys watching us—all wearing a snowflake symbol somewhere on their person. They've split up to blend into the crowd, but the ones in the corridor and the restaurant behind us are part of the same group."

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

Following Cyril's directive, Angelica perked up slightly, scanning the faces of the patrons in the in-store seating area. He was right—her eyes quickly caught several people matching his description, each displaying a snowflake symbol in some form, whether as a tattoo, wristband, or another accessory.

She nearly made eye contact with a bald man who shot her a sharp glare from the corridor. Quickly, she dipped her head to avoid drawing suspicion.

"Those guys have been tailing us ever since we left Ginny's shop a while back. I looped around the district just to make sure, but this settles it. They're definitely following us."

"You mean you were on to them the entire time?" Angelica leaned in close once again and condensed her startled shout to a small whisper.

"Yeah, to be honest..." Cyril flinched and scratched his head nervously as soon as his mind took note of the distance between them. "....I was kind of hoping they would just give up. This hasn't happened in a while, so I thought I was in the clear, especially with this new appearance but I guess not."

"You're being very casual about this. They don't look too friendly to me you know."

"They aren't." Cyril replied, shaking his head with slow, theatric turns.

"I'm not sure if you remember what Percy told you about me in the dungeon a while back, but those guys are from a terrorist organization called Cocytus. They caused a pretty big stir in the city a year ago, and I just so happen to run into them at the time. Long story short, I got into a fight with them, and they put out a hit on the dark net for me after the fact."

"T-that's terrible...shouldn't we report this to Longinus then? If we capture those guys—!!"

"Wait."

Angelica's righteous proposal had failed to land, somehow, Cyril managed to preemptively trace her line of thought and reject her incoming suggestion with his outstretched hand.

"Longinus is good at keeping order here, but even they can't filter out every single miscreant in the city—hell, most of them aren't even on record. They're probably just some small fries so it would be good if we could just ignore them, but it doesn't look like that's going to happen."

Hearing that made Angelica's lips crumple a bit, she bit down on the soft puffy skin reflexively, burling her fists in silent protest. The fact that she'd even suggest such a rudimentary solution to the problem only served to highlight her own inexperience. Cyril understood that, after all, the girl hadn't even been in the city for a full month yet.

There was much for her to learn about these things, for a deviant, subjugating monsters was a lot simpler than fighting crime. There was no human element to consider, no moral code or law, and more often than not, there was hardly any need for a deliberation.

Encounters with monsters could simply be summed up as 'Hit it hard until it died.' When other humans were involved, however, the situation became a lot more complicated for most people—those who hadn't yet learned to steel their resolve and take a life if necessary, she had yet to realize it herself, but Angelica, unlike her newfound companion, was a prime example of that.

"Now then, whatever shall we do young miss? Should we confront them?" Cyril wondered aloud, tilting his head back to gaze at the sky. For whatever reason, his expression carried a hint of quiet intrigue as he posed the question to himself, despite the supposedly dire situation.

Cyril's question was meant to be rhetorical, but it still had an effect on the conflicted Angelica.

Puffing an exasperated breath, the young lady fell back on her rear and crossed her legs in thought. "Well....I want to hear your two cents first. You look like you've already got something planned." she said, wording the sentence somewhat flippantly.

"I think I know why they're tailing us. If they haven't recognized me from the hunter associations updated profile roster, then the only other reason I can think of is your rapier. Based on the traces of your mana leaking off that thing, anyone can tell that it's a genuine artifact, something those guys seem to be rather fond of these days."

Angelica glance down at the weapon resting by her side, a silver rapier a little over one meter long, glistening lusciously in the evening sunlight.

"It doesn't sound like you plan on confronting them here. If you're planning to lure them somewhere else then that would be good, but how exactly are you going to do that?" she asked calmly, burying the quiet urge in her tone.

Finally, Cyrill smiled and walked over to the edge of the outdoor patio. With his back still turned, he leaned against the metal railing, exuding a sense of calm despite the tension hanging in the air. The distant hum of the city buzzed beneath them, a stark contrast to the sharp focus in his eyes as he glanced over his shoulder. "Do you remember how we first met? On the day of the final assessment, I jumped off a building a few stories higher than this one."

The memories of that day came rushing back to Angelica, at least, the more wholesome ones did. It all began when a certain reckless D-rank made his gaudy entrance after somersaulting off the outer wall of a commercial high-rise.

She didn't need very long to decipher the meaning behind that question; before she'd even realized it, she was already standing—rapier in hand— and moving closer to the edge of the patio.

Cyril turned around to face their silent watchers, he flashed them a bold, snarky grin before resuming his conversation with Angelica. "You know, they say even a D-rank deviant's body can easily survive a fifty-feet fall because of mana reinforcement."

"So I've been told." Angelica replied, grinning at the young man's suggestion. She curled her fingers around the metal railing as soon as they noticed the lurking silhouettes starting to close in on their positions.

"After you." Cyril playfully swept his hand through the air as he lowered himself into a half-bow.

The young lady smiled at the gesture. Muttering, "You're too kind," to her temporary chaperone, she casually vaulted over the iron bars with effortless grace. Cyril, taking note, promptly followed suit.

Although unconventional, it was undeniably an escape.

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